Play Date
by BunyBuny11
Summary: A young, fourteen year old Aizawa makes the tragic mistake of taking the babysitting job for the dynamic duo of five year old Hawks and Dabi. Things do not go well. I give you young Hot Wings in all it's glory.


**Play Date**

"Bad idea! Dude, trust me, don't do it."

Aizawa looked up from the notice he was holding. It had been pinned to the miscellaneous job board for weeks now. He had been walking past it, always catching the flash of bright yellow out of the corner of his eye. He had been tempted but he wasn't really a babysitter. He had watched his young cousins a few times but no one outside his own family.

Lately though he had been getting desperate, there wasn't much work around for a fourteen-year-old. What did crop up was instantly snatched by the elder teens with more experience. He was so close too. He only needed a hundred more dollars and then it would finally be his. He'd been saving his money for months now and the goal was finally in sight.

He turned to his friend Yamada. "Why not? It seems pretty straight forward. Babysit two five-year olds so their parents can have a date night. I mean it's what four, five hours tops and they are willing to pay $200 bucks for it." He looked again at the bright yellow flyer. "It almost seems to good to be true."

"That's because it is! My sister tried to watch the hellions last year. It did not go well for her to say the least! That's why they are offering two hundred bucks. They haven't gotten any sucker to go for it since she tried."

Shota waved him off. "You are just exaggerating like normal."

His voice lowered and he actually looked somewhat serious. "Dude, I'm not, don't do it. I mean what do you even need the money for anyway? You are a man of simple means, my friend."

Aizawa suddenly smiled and dug into his bag. "Here I'll show you. It's amazing." He found the ad in his folder and flattened it out, showing it to Hizashi. It was tattered and faded from being carried around. "Check it out. Isn't it the most beautiful thing you have ever seen?"

Yamada leaned closer and then looked up at his friend in confusion. "Dude, that's a sleeping bag."

Shota shook his head. "No, it isn't a sleeping bag, it is _**the**_ sleeping bag. It's the Hispar 1200, this thing is the Cadillac of sleeping bags. You can stay warm even in -58°C and it only weighs 1,560g. You can climb Mount Everest with this!"

"You don't climb mountains. You fall asleep in the library."

"That's not the point."

Yamada shrugged. "Dude, your funeral." He turned and walked out the door leaving Aizawa staring at the random job board and the bright yellow notice.

He looked back at the paper in his hand. His friend was just screwing with him. It could not be that bad and if he took this job just once, he would be able to buy his new baby. He nodded to himself, mind made up, yes, he could do this. He folded the paper, pushing it into his bag as he also turned to leave.

The two women sitting across from him looked nervous, very nervous. They were both decked out in their best for a rare date night. The striking woman with white hair kept looking behind her every few minutes and the dirty blonde's leg would not stop bouncing up and down.

"So, umm, you have previous experience with babysitting?"

Aizawa nodded. "Yes, I've watched my younger cousins several times."

The other woman leaned in. "Your family has health insurance, correct?"

He cocked his head to the side. Not your typical question. "Um, yes ma'am, we have health insurance."

"Thank God, umm, I mean that's very responsible of your family."

The blonde now spoke. "And your quirk, it actually cancels out other quirks?"

Aizawa nodded again. "Yes, I have to maintain eye contact but it cancels out other quirks."

She turned to her friend. "That is perfect!" She leaned down and pulled out a fire extinguisher from under the table. "You might need this."

He took it in confusion. "Need this? Why?"

"You can never be to safe, you know?" She grabbed the other woman by the wrist and pulled her to her feet. "Okay we have got to run, reservations and all, you know." She handed him a piece of paper. "This has my cell phone number on it and then the numbers for the local hospitals, urgent cares, fire stations, police stations, you know the normal."

He took the paper from her. "That seems like a lot."

Before he could even finish the sentence the two women were walking out the door to their waiting husbands. The blonde called back out over her shoulder. "Have fun, the boys are in the living room." And then they were gone, the door closing behind them.

He stood up. This was weird but so far not bad but of course he hadn't seen the children in question yet either. He walked to the door they had pointed to and pushed it open. Sitting on the couch looking like two innocent angels sat the five-year-old children. One with fiery red hair and the other a dirty blonde to match his mother. The red head was covered in scratches and more than a few band-aids, the blonde sported a set of lovely brown wings. They were holding hands and smiling at him. He wasn't sure if he liked those smiles.

As they eyed each other from across the room, he realized the mothers had not told him the names of the children nor their quirks. Well the one had wings, he wondered if he could fly with them yet or not. This could prove problematic. The other was an enigma for now. He was sure he would figure it out eventually. He crossed over and knelled down in front of them.

"Hi, I'm Aizawa and I'm going to watch you tonight." So far, no reaction. "Your moms took off before I could get your names. So, what should I call you?"

They looked at each other, seeming to share some thought through looks alone. The red head turned back to him. He pointed at the other boy. "That's Feathers, I'm Sparky."

"What? Come on, those aren't your real names. What's your name?"

They both folded their arms and looked down at him like he had said something very stupid. This time the winged one spoke. "You asked what you can call us. That's what _**you**_ can call us."

He drew back a bit. Okay let them have their way, if they wanted to go by silly nicknames, he would let them. It would probably be best to not start the night off with a fight. "Well, all right, if that's what you want."

Feathers spoke. "Good and we will call you Wazzy."

"Um, no, it's Aizawa."

"Wazzy sounds much better!"

"But…"

The red head jumped off the couch and grabbed his arm. "Come on Wazzy, we're playing cowboys and Indians and you get to be the Indian."

"I, but…" He was dragged from the room into the kitchen and then regarded with serious blue eyes.

"You have to look more like an Indian." He yanked his arm. "Here sit down and let me get your super cool weapons."

Aizawa was reluctantly pulled down to the floor. "So how do we play this game?"

"It's simple, we are going to be the heroic cowboys and you get to be the evil Indian chief. Then we attack and capture you and drag you back to jail."

He folded his legs under him and sat on the tile floor. "Okay and you mentioned weapons?"

The red head gave him two thumbs up. "We've got super cool Nerf guns and arrows."

Aizawa nodded. Okay this didn't sound too bad. Just Nerf guns, soft bullets and arrows, he had played with those before in his younger days. Before he could question the rules of engagement, the red head was gone through the door.

Just as he was about to get up and go searching for the duo, little Sparky came streaking back into the kitchen, arms now full. He threw a large plastic gun at Aizawa and then set his other treasures down next to him.

"Okay Wazzy, we have to make you look like an Indian first." He grabbed a marker and before Aizawa could react he was drawing bold strokes across his face.

"Wait, wait, what are you doing?"

"I'm giving you war paint, duh?"

Aizawa pulled the tiny wrist down. "What are you using? That's just a marker, right?" His eyes widened in horror as he saw clearly printed on the barrel – Sharpie Permanent. "Oh no, no, no!" He pulled the marker free of the grubby little paw and stood up, putting it on top of the refrigerator. He turned back to the little boy with the hurt expression on his face. "You can't use that kind of marker. It is going to take me forever to get it off."

The blue eyes were filling up with tears now, threatening to spill over and start a full-on crying tantrum. Aizawa quickly tried to back track. Crying children were the worst kind of children. "It's okay right?" He pointed to his face. "I have enough to be an Indian right?"

One reluctant sniff. "I guess so." He grabbed his arm and pulled again. "Here you need to put your Indian headdress on now."

He kneeled down. "Indian headdress?"

Sparky pulled a handful of feathers from behind his back. "See!"

Those feathers looked very familiar. "Where did you get those from?"

As if on cue, the former owner of those feathers came crashing through the door, in tears, pointing an accusing finger at his friend. "He pulled my feathers out!"

"I didn't!"

"You did!" He turned to Aizawa and stretched out one wing pointing to a small bald patch. "Lookie! He shoved me down and pulled a handful of feathers out!" He turned to the other boy and kicked him. "I don't like you anymore!"

Sparky not one to bow down to a challenge, kicked him back. "I don't like you! This is my house so you can just go home!"

"Well you're just a big idiot!"

"You're a bird brain!"

Aizawa quickly grabbed them both, pulling them apart. "No, no, no, it's okay. Let's not fight huh?" He looked down at the small bald patch. "They will grow back." Then he turned to the red head. "Say you're sorry for pulling his feathers out."

"No!"

"Say you're sorry or we are all going to go sit on the couch and have a time out and I won't play cowboys and Indians with you."

The two boys glared at each other for a minute with the red head finally relenting. "I'm sorry I pulled out your stupid feathers."

The other one smiled, wings puffing up proudly. "It's okay, I guess." He reached out and grabbed the feathers. "Well don't waste them." They both began happily sticking the ill-gotten feathers into his hair, most of the time jabbing him painfully in the skull.

When they were done, the red head smacked him on the ass. "Get going Indian." Well at least they weren't fighting or crying now. He would take the little things in life and try to be happy.

He picked up the Nerf gun and walked out the kitchen door, back into the living room, looking for a good hiding place. There was a large china hutch in the corner that concealed a shadowed corner. That was as good as anything and this way he could still keep an eye on them. He moved into the darkness, holding his gun at the ready, feathers falling out of his hair and into his eyes.

With a crazy battle cry, two small bodies came hurtling out of the kitchen door. The winged one took to the air, circling the living room before calling out triumphantly. "Indian!"

Immediately the wall next to his head had three Nerf arrows hit it, flaming Nerf arrows. Aizawa dropped his gun. "What the hell!" He quickly tried to blow them out before they scorched the wall or caught something on fire. He grabbed them, burning his fingers in the process.

"Ahhhhhh, he cussed!"

The winged one swooped down to eye level. "You said a bad word, I'm telling my mommy."

"Why are the arrows on fire?"

The red head gave him a condescending look. "Well how do you play cowboys and Indians?" He stepped forward kicking the dropped gun away. "Doesn't matter anyway because now we caught you!" He was roughly pulled from the corner and pulled to the center of the living room.

The bird dropped one end of a rope to his friend and then he began to fly around in circles, wrapping Aizawa up in the process. "Where did you get rope from?"

The red head smacked his leg. "Hush, Indian, captives don't get to talk." He was pulled over to a pile of throw pillows and pushed onto them. "And now we burn you at the stake."

"What!?" The red head's hands erupted into blue flames. Now the fire extinguisher made sense. He quickly stared at him, his eyes going from black to red. The flames died as he looked from one hand to the other in confusion. Little Feathers came swooping in and Aizawa got him. He fell three feet to the ground with a thud and started to cry.

"He's not an Indian, he's a red eyed demon!"

The red head ignored the cries of his fallen friend instead watching Aizawa closely. "Whoa! He's got magic eyes. Mom didn't mention that."

"He made me fall!"

"Would you quit it, crybaby."

As they argued, Aizawa managed to get out of the looped rope and stand. "All right you two, if you don't start behaving, I'm just going to stick you in a corner and stare at you all night long!"

"No!"

The red head leaned over and whispered. "He wouldn't, I don't think he could keep it up all night long."

Aizawa glared at them. "I can and I will unless you two quit it."

They looked at each other, looked at him, looked at each other again. Finally, the red head bent and helped his winged partner in crime up. "I guess so. We'll be good." Then he smiled. "Hey do you want to play Uno?"

"Uno? Umm ok." He didn't think there could be that much blood shed involved in a card game. Plus, he would be sitting at a table, staring at both of them, able to kill their quirks if need be.

They moved back into the kitchen and sat at the small table. Small wings took the deck of cards and began to shuffle them. "We play Uno all the time but it's usually just the two of us so it's boring." He dealt the cards.

So far, so good, card games, nice and quiet, Aizawa looked down at his cards. He actually had a pretty good hand. He had wild cards and reverse and draw four, his competitive nature kicked in despite the fact he was playing with two five year olds.

The game progressed and at first it was good, it was fun, it was actually peaceful. And then, he started to win. They did not appreciate this new development. The tiny pyro got another draw four card from him and glared, the blue eyes flashing.

Before Aizawa could register that things had abruptly stopped moving smoothly, the cards burst into flames and the feathered one burst into tears. He threw his hands up in the air, his own cards flying. "Jesus Christ!" He quickly killed their quirks while grabbing the fire extinguisher and dousing the flaming cards.

The red head was still trying to unsuccessfully burn things. The feathered one was still crying, in between hiccups he managed to get out, "That's the third deck you've burned. I don't want to play with you anymore." Then he pointed at Aizawa. "And you cussed again."

The red head glared at them both. "It's his fault, he was cheating!"

Aizawa ran a hand through his hair, realizing there were still feathers tangled in it. "I wasn't cheating!" He sighed heavily. "Okay we are going to sit on the couch and watch TV." Without breaking eye contact they all moved back to the living room. He secured them both on the couch, not to close and gave them the remote. They immediately starting fighting over said remote.

Aizawa collapsed into a chair and pulled out his cell phone. He quickly dialed a number, still trying to watch them. It rang twice and then was picked up.

"Mom?"

"Shota, is that you? What's wrong?"

"Mom, you've got to help me. They are monsters."

"What? Oh, you are babysitting. Come on honey, they can't be that bad. They are only a couple of little kids."

"No, mom, they are bad. I've got permanent marker on my face, feathers in my hair, they shot flaming arrows at me, tied me up, tried to burn me at the stake and then our card game ended in a fiery blaze."

"Now honey, don't exaggerate."

"I'm not! One of them can fly and the other is as bad as that kid from Firestarter. What am I supposed to do? I can't stare at them all night long." He looked at the clock on the wall. "It's only been an hour!"

"Settle down, settle down, let's see. Well when I wanted a break, I would always take you to the McDonald's. Get them some food and they have a playland. They can play with the other kids and tire themselves out."

Aizawa nodded. "Okay playland, that might work. Thanks mom."

"Love you."

"I love you too. Bye."

He ended the call and pushed the phone back into his pocket. "Hey, do you two want to go to McDonald's?"

They both jumped up happy. "Yes, food!"

"Playland!"

He let out a shaky breath, he could survive this, he would survive this. "Okay then come on." They ran out to his car and he made sure they were both strapped into the backseat, before getting into the driver's seat and pulling out of the driveway. As soon as they hit the road, the questions started.

Small wings the inquisitive began, "How long will it take?"

"Umm a little while, not long."

"No, how long, how many minutes?"

Aizawa looked at the clock. "Ten minutes?"

Thirty seconds passes. "Are we there yet?"

"No, I said, ten minutes."

"Oh, do they have chicken nuggets?"

"I think so."

"I like chicken nuggets. I like chicken wings better but they don't have them there, do they? Do they? Does McDonald's have chicken wings?"

"I don't think so." His fingers gripped the steering wheel turning white.

"That's too bad because I really like chicken wings but you know, chicken nuggets are good too. Hey do they have cheeseburgers?"

"Yes, they have cheeseburgers."

"That's good because he likes cheeseburgers." He punched his friend in the arm. "You like cheeseburgers, right?"

"I don't feel so good."

Aizawa quickly looked in the rearview mirror. The red head was pale and looked queasy.

"Oh yeah, I forgot you get car sick." He kicked the back of Aizawa's chair. "Hey Wazzy, he gets car sick. I forgot."

Aizawa tried to slow down. They were almost there, just make it a little further kid. As he pulled into the parking lot there was the unmistakable sound of vomiting coming from the back seat. He closed his eyes and tried to count to ten. It wasn't working. He still wanted to strangle both of them. Deep breath in, deep breath out, he got out of the car and opened the back door. Two happy children jumped out.

The red head smiled at him, wiping his mouth with his t-shirt. "I feel better now."

"Great, that makes me so happy." He rubbed his head. "Come on, let's get some food."

Somehow, he got them inside, got food and got them to the playland. Surprisingly they both ate everything. Unsurprisingly they stole each other's French fries and argued about it. Finally, they were done and ran off to the ball pit, slides and tubes.

He watched them happily run in circles with the other kids. So far so good, there were no screams, there were no flames, there were no falling children. He breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to his food. At least now he could enjoy his dinner in a semi-peace.

As he was finishing up his fries there was a gentle tug on his sleeve. He looked down to find blue eyes staring at him solemnly. "Hey Wazzy, he got stuck."

The fry stopped halfway to his mouth. "Excuse me, what?"

"He got stuck."

"Stuck? Where? How?" He knew it had been too good to last.

The red head pointed up at the multi-colored, plastic tubes. "There!"

"But?"

A sharp tug on his sleeve. "Come on."

He set the last fry down sadly, realizing he was going to have to climb up the plastic tubes to try and free the feathered one. "Lead the way."

He kicked his shoes off and followed the red head, up one twisting turn after another. They were narrow, hot and smelled like urine. They were also not built for adults or even skinny teenagers. He had to pull just to get through certain areas and it was murdering his knees. Finally, they came to the scene of the incident. Sure, enough the bird was firmly wedged into one of the narrower sections.

At least he didn't look upset at being held captive. He shrugged his shoulders and said, "I got stuck again."

"Again? This has happened before?"

"Once or twice, my wings get in the way."

Aizawa turned his head this way and that, he was definitely jammed in there good. He took a tentative hand, grabbing a wing and a shoulder and trying to pull.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!"

He pulled away. "Okay, umm, let's see, maybe if I push?" He applied some pressure but nothing was happening. He threw up his hands. "Crap!"

"He cussed again! Did you hear that? I'm telling mom."

He pulled the phone from his pocket again, wondering if he was liable for child endangerment. As he dialed the number, he was watching the money sail away into the sunset and just hoping the parents didn't try and lynch him.

 **Later at the hospital**

The two mothers came around the corner but neither was running or flustered. They actually looked quite at home. Aizawa stood, ready to take the verbal beating that he deserved.

"Ma'am, I'm so sorry. I took them to the McDonald's playland. I didn't think he would get stuck and then well we couldn't get him out so I had to call the paramedics. They cut him out but then insisted that we come here for a checkup." He held up both of his hands. "But they are fine, no harm, not even a bruise."

The dirty blonde shrugged. "It happens." She fished in her purse and handed him the money. "Hey not bad, you made it almost halfway through the night."

Aizawa was staring with his mouth half open. "You're not mad."

The white-haired woman spoke up. "No, we had more fun tonight than we have had in ages. Can we count on you for next Friday night?"

Aizawa clutched the money tightly in his hand, taking a step back. "No, sorry, I've got some prior engagements."

"Oh, that's too bad but we have your number. We'll give you a call, maybe sometime next month?"

He nodded, still walking backward. "Yeah, maybe." He looked down at his watch. "Wow, I've got to be going, bye!" He turned and practically ran out of the building.

 **The End**


End file.
